


Waiting for You

by somnia_tuan



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Blood, Fluff, French Revolution, Happy Ending, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Mystery, Violence, assassin!mark, assassins creed au, i am sorry i really am about this, mark & rosie the best friend duo we never knew we needed, noble!bambam, side chaelisa, side jinki x kibum
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:14:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23912863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somnia_tuan/pseuds/somnia_tuan
Summary: "I told you, it doesn't matter where you go, I'm going to come find you. Nothing will keep me from finding you."- the assassins creed au no one asked for
Relationships: Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam/Mark Tuan, Mark Tuan & Park Chaeyoung | Rosé
Comments: 1
Kudos: 23





	1. prologue

Mark watches from behind one of the stalls, one hand holding the stack of apples he was asked to get - ordered he says rolling his eyes at Lisa later on, earning a light smack from Kibum at the comment - and the one right amount of livres in the other, at the young girl with the dark red hair who is standing in the middle of the busy muddy street. She’s staring up at the doves sitting on a balcony of one of the buildings across from him, oblivious to the world around her. He watches as she moves her head slightly as they jump around, looking for any sign of food in this barren city, probably as much as she was. 

He hands the money over to the woman behind the stall, nodding his head at the thanks said back to him and moves to walk away but finds his sight returning to the young girl. 

Her long dark hair was braided badly - he can only guess since he’s only ever seen Lisa braid her hair or the hair of her dolls back at home - the ribbon keeping it all together frayed, the strings swaying in the breeze. Her dress dirty, covered in stains from mud, splotches so dark they changed the coloring of the assumed once pretty dress. Her feet are bare, dirty from the mud she’s standing in and whatever dirt has caked her feet from living on the streets. He finally turns his eyes away, to find a carriage flying down the street straight towards her. 

While he hasn’t had a lot of training, mostly trained to climb up containers for Kibum to reach things stacked up high and away from any mice, it’s in his blood to move fast and nimbly. He’s running to the young girl, ignoring all the shouts around him to watch out for the carriage, grabbing her and throwing them both over to the other side of the street. He lands on the bag of apples, her landing on top of him and ignores the shouts of curses at them to ‘watch where they’re going’. 

Mark, only once he’s back on his feet ready to check over the girl, looks up at the accident he caused. Two carriages, one a dark rich black and the other a light blue with gold trims, sit, both without the horses on its rein, corner to corner, tangled up within reins and wheels. 

“Wait here, don’t leave.” He says to the girl, making his way over to the mess. A crowd is already forming around the mess, drivers and owners yelling to back away and go back to their daily life. But Paris has no entertainment for the daily goings on for the peasants, Mark thinks, they’re all too hungry to do anything. 

He squeezes through to stand at the front getting a better look at the mess. He’s back to turn around, figuring that he should get out of there before someone puts the blame on him, when he feels a small hand wrap around his wrist. Thinking its the young red headed girl, he turns around to ask why she didn’t stay where he left her to find big brown eyes, from a smaller boy staring up at him. 

“Didn’t I - oh sorry. Are you okay?” He asks the small boy. He’s at least a head shorter than him, with nicely styled hair and a light white tunic hidden behind a light blue jacket. Mark looks over his shoulder to confirm that the light blue of the carriage matches the light blue the boy is wearing, making this the boy within the carriage he just caused to crash. The carriage of a boy within the nobility class. 

“I’m fine, I just wanted to tell you that I saw you dive across the street and it was amazing.” The young boy says, brown eyes blinking up at him. 

“Well, thanks. But I think you should head back to whoever you were with before since we’re from different classes. You don’t seem hurt so I’m thankful for that.” Mark moves to slip back through the crowd when the small hand grabs him again.

“I’m Bambam, can I atleast know your name?” Mark looks back, Bambam is wearing a sweet smile. His cheeks are red, Mark isn’t sure if it’s makeup the nobility class is known to wear or the boy just has naturally red rosy cheeks, and finds himself speaking before he can stop himself. 

“I’m Mark. Nice to meet you, but I really have to go now.”

Mark pulls his hand away from Bambam, quickly side stepping through the crowd and sends a quick thanks to whoever is listening that the girl is still standing where he left her, now watching pigeons walk around in the street looking for any sign of food. He walks up to her, crouching down to look her in the eye and get her attention and pushes the hair back from her face. 

“Hey, I’m Mark. What’s your name?” She blinks a few times before looking at him. 

“I’m Minji.” She says, voice low like she’s used to having to speak quietly, knowing if she speaks too loud she’ll get punished. 

“Hello Minji, do you have somewhere you live? Or stay during the night?” She shakes her head no, before stopping and continuing to say no.

“I have somewhere, there’s someone there that will love to take care of you. You’ll have food, a bed and somewhere that’s safe and warm. Do you want to come?” He holds out her hand, she takes it gripping onto him tightly. 

“Alright, let’s go. It’s a little bit of a walk, but thankfully it’s sunny today.” 

Mark and Minji leave, unaware that the brown eyes of a small boy of nobility watch them go, a small pout forming on his lips at the fact that the hero he saw left without trying to talk to him. Mark brings Minji home, to the waiting arms of Jinki, Kibum and Lisa who make her feel welcome. Mark is happy to hear loud laughing giggles from Lisa’s room when he’s headed to bed, knowing that his gut instinct was right that Minji belonged with them.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Ten Years Later.** _

_**Unrest fills France, as food and money become scarce for every class other than the nobility and the royal family. The winds carry whispers of revolution, love and promise to all of those dreamers within the city.** _

They’re on roof tops across from each other, moving black shadows tiptoeing across, watching their target move around the graveyard that has become the base of this sect of templars. Mark peaks around the chimney, scanning how many men are below him and quickly makes a running leap into the tree. 

He moves fast, feet barely touching the branches and perches above the center of the graveyard, just where their target will stop. He fixes his hood, scanning to find where his partner Rosé could have possibly gone when he sees one of the sharpshooters on the roof fall. A black shadow moves, jumping over the body and climbs up the bell tower of the church. Eyes moving past his partner finds two more gunmen on the tower, soon to be down. 

Mark turns his attention back to the situation below him, watching two of the men on watch walk past him, oblivious to the man above them. He counts to five before dropping down, landing a killing blow for both of them with his hidden blades and moving to hide behind a large gravestone not far from the walkway. 

He hears someone drop down not far behind him, turning his head fast to find that Rosé has taken down another pair of guards. She looks up, nodding at him and crouches behind a similar gravestone. He turns back around, peeking around the stone and sees their target. He throws up his hand behind his back, allowing her to see that their target is in sight and waits. 

The man steps into the center, looking around before making his way towards the front doors of the church. Mark gets up, running behind him and delivers the killing blow, dropping the body to the ground. The man, barely alive, looks up at him before he stops breathing. He turns to find Rosé behind him, they both nod at each other and separate taking off. Mark just pulls himself onto the roof when the alarm bell - he kicks himself for missing it - starts ringing. He jumps down, landing on the busy street unaware of what is going on around them and takes off towards home. 

\----

The room where they hold council is dark and dreary, the original basement of the building Jinki and Kibum brought years ago. Candles light up the room, flickering shadows casting the large bookshelves and the group of assassins seated around the large table across the walls. Mark studies the detailed map of Paris that hangs on the back wall, a bright red pin placed marking their home just on the edge of the industry center in the Marais district. 

Mark has lived within the walls of the café, the right side of the large house that they call base, since he was a child. His parents had brought him here to be trained and brought up in the walls of an assassin household, where the daily goings on of Paris were left to be discussed around the dinner table and sword training was the most important part of the day. Nowadays, the goings on of Paris are the main topic of conversation, the brewing revolution right down the street. 

The household consisted of just the three of them, Jinki, Kibum and Mark until Lisa joined their household when Mark was eight, her being two years younger than him. They quickly became siblings, giving their adult supervisors, basically their parents, a run for their money. A few years would pass before siblings Jisoo and Jinyoung joined the household, Lisa finding a big sister and Mark finding someone to practice throwing knives at with the boy. The marks of Mark’s knives are still in the wall in the main foyer, just at hip level on the staircase. They would end up getting along, the majority of their relationship showed by teasing each other. 

Mark’s thoughts get cut off by the laughter coming from his left from his best friend and mission partner Rosé, who breaks the silence of the room after Lisa whispers something to her. Lisa found Rosé one night, stumbling into the main foyer of the cafe in the middle of a thunderstorm, screaming for help. Rosé was soaked to the bone, the rags of her dress only serving the purpose of keeping her covered. There were a few close calls, the chills so set within her bones that they weren’t sure she would be able to bounce back. But after three weeks of staying in bed, buried under every blanket the family owned, Rosé was up and around the cafe beginning her training. They bonded quickly, Mark was the one tasked with training her, finding out that they worked best as a team.

Missing from the table is Minji, who works in the café with Kibum and works alongside Jinki helping with the inventory and keeping track of missions coming in and out of his office. While trained, she’s still too young to be placed out in the field, doing nightly watches to report back home in the morning. Given that she’s not here, Mark figures that there’s nothing new to report. He picks up his report, the mission completed last night, just when Jinki comes sweeping down the staircase into the room. 

Jinki drops the pile of papers in front of him, plopping down into the chair at the head of the table - the chair no one dares to sit in, making it the unofficial head of the wooden round table - and calls the meeting into order. 

“Good morning everyone, sorry for making you all wait. But first, Mark, do you have your report from last night’s mission.” Mark slides the papers across the table. “Thank you to the both of you for completing it in such a short amount of time, I can always count on both of you. Now, to today’s business. With the rising tensions, citizens becoming more displeased with the King and Queen, riots are going to be happening on the daily. Jinyoung, I’m going to need you and Jisoo to keep an eye out today and try to maintain any that you come across. Please be cautious, I do not want either of you getting hurt.

“Rosie and Mark, I have a mission for the both of you. The body of a man was found in an alleyway in the Court of Miracles early this morning. Before you make a comment about how likely it is to find a body in that area, he seems to be from the class of nobility by his style of dress and was more than likely robbed. I need the both of you to search the body, the area and try to find any clues to tell us who this person was and why they were killed. Our friends might be known for their tricks but I doubt they would do this."

They’re passed the paper explaining what they know, basically just the information told to them. Mark reads over Rosé’s shoulder, scanning the empty page for the location and a note saying that the owner of the building connected to the alleyway had found the body, might have more information and needs to be talked to. The paper is seemingly missing anything and everything that could be helpful to them, the duo sharing a look of confusion. 

By the time the both of them look back up at the table, the meeting has been closed, Jinki gone from the room. Lisa is waiting for them near the staircase, reading over her own mission. Mark gets up, grabbing some extra ammunition from the wooden cases in the back corner and catches up with both girls at the top of the stairs.   
  
“There you are, I was just telling Rosie that you two didn’t miss anything else besides my mission and Jinki urging us to be careful when we go out. He’s really nervous, this revolution is about to go up into flames at any moment.” Lisa sits down behind Jinki’s desk and begins digging through one of the bottom drawers. 

  
“And what’s your mission? Because I doubt it’s searching through his desk.” Rosé asks leaning on the doorway. Mark heads over to the window, checking to see if the weather is still clear not wanting evidence to be washed away in any rain storms. 

“I have to watch some family of nobility in the upper part of the district. He thinks they’re tied to the templars. Mark, doesn’t your sweet darling live there?” Lisa laughs, flicking through papers before diving back into the desk. 

“I have never called him that in my life and I’ll make sure to never do it because I’ve heard you say it. Do you call Rosie that?” Mark laughs, walking over towards the door. “He does though. Anyway, good luck, have fun sitting on a roof all day. Let’s head out before the Court messes up our crime scene.”

“Race you?” Rosé says, pulling her hood up as they weave their way around the cafe tables already filled up with patrons.

“You’re on.” Mark says, taking off, pulling himself over their brick wall, Rosé's laughter echoing from behind him. 

\------

Mark drops from the roof of the building running next to the alleyway, finding Rosé waiting for him within the shadows. She steps out, motions for him to follow her and leads him down the path to where a man sits slumped up against the wall of a building, hidden between barrels. Mark moves one of the barrels getting a look at the crime scene. 

“Since I had the time, you lost if you hadn’t noticed, I did a quick scan of the area. Obviously overpacked houses of families, beggars and the brothel but that’s expected of the area. I talked to the man that found the body,” Rosé moves another over, allowing them full access to the victim. “He said that last night was like any other night, nothing sticking out to him. He said that he woke up, came to check on the barrels and found the body, panicked thinking he was from a higher class and somehow the case ended up getting to Jinki.” 

Mark squats down to get a better look at the man. The man is older, probably in his forties, wearing a rich dark green set of robes. There’s slight blood running from the corner of his mouth, letting Mark guess that he was stabbed. He moves the man’s jacket over, finding the stab wound confirming his thought. He spots the inner pocket on the jacket, putting his hand within and pulling out a map. He opens it, something sliding into his hand that causes the both of them to freeze. When Mark flips over the gold coin, he finds the assassins symbol, an upside down ‘V’ with a curved line underneath. 

“That’s an old assassin badge isn’t it? I remember Kibum talking about them, that his master had one.” 

“Yup, so this isn’t a murder of a noblitiy class man, it’s a murder of an another assassin.” Mark stands up, staring down at the badge in his palm. “This just got tricker.”

\-------

They’re sitting in a booth in the corner of the café, papers scattering the table while Rosé writes the report. They came rushing back, hoping to find Jinki in his office only to learn that he went out on a mission of his own and won’t be back until late. Mark watches Rosé as she drops her pen, leaning back and staring down at the small paragraph of information they have - from scouting the area and from this morning’s report. 

“Well, what do we do know? We have to talk to Jinki, he’s going to have to tell other sects of assassins about the body.” 

“If anyone finds out about this, there will be chaos. Sure assassins die on missions but one being dumped in an alleyway? We don’t need more chaos than the revolution is already bringing.” 

Mark turns to do a scan of the café, spotting Lisa who’s just walking in. She drops her hood, turning her head back and forth before spotting him and making her way over. He quickly starts packing up what they have, whispering for Rosé to do the same, the table cleared by the time Lisa slides next to her girlfriend, throwing her arm over her shoulder.

“Secrets aren’t fun guys.” She pouts.

“They are when they aren’t your mission.” Rosé pokes her on the nose, the pout instantly disappearing and a small smile forming. “How was your mission?”

“Boring.” Lisa says. “Do you guys want me to get some drinks?”

“Actually, I was heading out.” Mark gets up from the booth. “I’ll be back, hopefully, before Jinki comes home. If not, we can talk to him about our mission tomorrow.”    
  


“Oh going to see Bam?”

“Yeah, I promised him that I would try to stop by a bit more starting this week. He had an issue with the fact that I only got to show up once last week, and for five minutes at that. Something along the lines of ‘life is boring, all I do is drink tea and you don’t kiss me enough’. So I’m off to fulfill the duties I’ve been slacking on.” Mark says, smiles shyly. He waves goodbye, exiting the cafe and heads out into the darkening city. 

\---------

Mark drops onto the balcony that leads into Bambam’s rooms, the glass doors closed. Crouched behind the banister, Mark does a quick scan to make sure no one’s noticed him and reaches up slowly turning the handle and allowing himself in. The bedroom is dark, the giant bed empty but the doorway into the main room is open, light spilling out telling Mark where Bam is waiting. 

They might have met ten years ago, when Mark caused the carriage coulsion, but they would meet again just a few years ago at a party, one Bambam was invited too and one Mark was crashing, where Bambam recognized him as the hero that leapt across the street. It took Mark a few minutes to put together the pieces, Bambam having a growth spurt causing the younger to gain a pair of long legs and an expensive fashion taste to go with them. The night ended in Mark successfully stealing the papers off the desk of some marquis and the two of them sharing kisses in a dark corner of a hallway, away from the party. 

Bambam left him there, giving him the information of where his chateau was within the district, parting with the statement he hopes he finds him. It took Mark three nights to finally find the correct chateau, peaking over the balcony to find Bambam waiting for him. Mark would return every night for the next week, allowing them to talk until Bambam would fall asleep, Mark slipping out the balcony window before being caught. Mark just isn’t sure where in the past year of all the stress, where their relationship turned into ten minute talks, a probably unhealthy amount of kissing and Mark stumbling into Bambam’s room every other week. He wished it hadn’t, he wished their lives weren’t so different. 

He peaks around the corner of the doorframe, to make sure that Bambam is alone, and finds a mop of brown hair slouched down on his longue couch, a bottle of wine hanging from his fingertips looking into the dying fire in the fireplace. He’s alone, lost in thought, and Mark leans up against the doorframe to study him. 

Bambam is stripped of all daily makeup, high fashion clothing and jewelry and everything else expected at court. He’s wrapped in a light blue - because how could Mark expect any other color at this point - dressing gown, his white night shirt poking out at the top. His long legs lay out next to him, missing the socks to keep his feet warm and Mark’s eyes trace up them to find Bambam watching him. 

“You came.”

“I did, like I promised.” Mark walks over dropping a long kiss onto his forehead, as he steals away the bottle from the younger. “Is this a prop or are you done with this?”

“I barely had any, so I guess a prop.” Bambam reaches out, Mark pulling him into his embrace after he places the bottle on the table behind the couch. Bambam reaches up to kiss him, stopping when he realizes something. “Why is your coat and shoes still on?”   
  


“I can’t stay long, I came to make sure you go to bed.” Mark picks up Bambam easily, feeling his legs wrap around his waist as he makes his way back into the dark bedroom. The bed is already turned down for the night, Ten must have done it earlier in case Mark came by, allowing him to place Bambam into it and pull the covers back. Bambam flops back onto the mountain of pillows, huffing at the idea Mark isn’t staying longer than a few minutes. 

“Well I’m in bed now, so is that it?” He crosses his arms.

“No,” Mark leans over kissing his forehead again, pulling away before Bambam can wrap his arms around him. “I can talk for a little while. What did you do today?” 

“The usual, had my tutors, where we practiced everything I would need to know to be a good match for someone that offers to marry me. Then I had tea with my mother, where we discussed possible future marriage deals, some more ahead of the business deals than others. Then I had dinner with my father, where guess what, we talked about getting ready for marriage and how I am a good prize that any man would want.” 

“Hm, you are a prize though, a precious gem.” Mark leans over stealing another kiss. “Too bad I stole you already.” Bambam hums a bit in agreement, grabbing Mark’s coat to pull him back down, allowing him to wrap his arms around his neck.

“You know,” Bambam slots his hand into Mark’s hair. “You’re avoiding one of your duties, which was more kisses.” He pulls his head down, attaching their lips together. Mark kisses him back but just when he feels like he’s going to give in, he pulls away. 

“Come on Mark, please. I haven’t seen you in a week. Ten more minutes if you can’t stay the night.” He whines, earning a kiss on his forehead, then on his cheek. 

“Tomorrow, if I have time I’ll stay the night. We’re a bit busy currently, some things popping up. Sleep baby, I’ll be back before you realize. I love you.” He kisses him on the forehead one last time, making sure Bambam’s comfortable, over dramatically checking the pillows earning himself small giggles. He turns away, feeling Bambam’s eyes watch him as he makes his way out onto the balcony and into the night.

He drops over the wall, making his way down the street when he hears someone drop behind him. He tucks himself into a corner of an alleyway, hidden in shadow and counts to five before leaping out. There’s a flash of dark red hair, before a blade clanks against his. 

“Christ Minji, I could have killed you.”

“But you didn’t and I successfully parried.” 

She gives him a bright, wide smile. Ever since finding her and bringing her home, Minji has become something like his little sister. He’s over protective and only wants the best, which is why Jinki stopped letting Mark train her because he didn’t push her, keeping her from unlocking all of her abilities. 

“You don’t usually come out this far when you do night watches,” He sheaths his sword, watching her mirror his actions. “Why are you out here?”

“Lisa, Rosie and Jisoo mentioned that you went out tonight and given that you only go one place when you leave the café when you’re not working so I came to see you home.” 

“Well, then let’s head home.” He throws his arm over her shoulders. “You have to tell Jinki tomorrow that you need a little bit more training on landing quietly. You would have had me.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know i said once a week but i figured to actually give people a real taste of the fic, i would post chapter 1. hope everyone enjoys it!


	3. Chapter 3

Mark and Rosé corner Jinki in his office the next morning, Mark coming home too late with Minji, along with Rosé getting too caught up with whatever Jisoo, Lisa and her got up to last night causing the both of them to miss him when he returned home. While the news of the death of another assassin was distressing to learn, he had some new information for them to look into. Passing onto a bundle of papers, telling them to keep the map they had found on the body, Jinki sent them on their way. Which is how they find themselves, standing in a cemetery in the pouring rain, with a water stained piece of paper being their only clue. 

Rosé looks it over again, pulling out the note to make sure the name ‘Chaput’ written in the bottom corner was correct and cycles through the rows of headstones again. The rest of the note, along with the marking on the map, points them towards their current location of the Saint-Denis cemetery. They’ve been trailing through deep puddles and piles of mud, wiping the rain out of their faces, hoping to figure out what the note means and if there’s anything there from this murdered assassin. 

“Mark, we aren’t going to find a ‘Chaput’ here, this is filled with royalty.” Rosé stomps over to him, her hood hanging heavy in her face as the rain continues to pour. 

“But then why lead us here?” Mark looks around, scanning headstones. “Let’s review what we have about this case, which is unfortunately-”

“Nothing.” 

“What I was going to say was not a lot, but that works too. The assassin was killed by an unknown person, or persons, and either had his body dumped in the slums or they fought there. We have no idea if the killer took anything off of the body.”

“Given the fact that we found the assassin badge and the map on him, the killer might not have taken anything.”

“Unless they didn’t know he was an assassin, but still anyone would look for anybody in today’s   
situation.” Mark looks up at the church. “Chaput means hood right?”

“Yes, someone who wears something hood like. Why?”

Mark walks over to the front of the church, slipping in the mud as he climbs the hill up. Rosé laughs, following him and standing in front of one of the doorways. There are small stone carvings, depicting different scenes including one of the saint the basilica is named after. They both study the few in the front, arching over the doorways, and turn to each other when the thought crosses their minds. 

“Saint Denis was beheaded wasn’t he?” Mark asks, looking back up at the statue of the saint who is holding his head in his hands. 

“So we have a murdered assassin, a hood, and a beheaded saint. Don’t forget about the other places marked on the map. We’re in the midst of a rising violent revolution where people are literally losing their heads daily.” Rosé remakes, the restrutation of the mission slipping through. “But how is this all connected and why did someone die over it?”

Before Mark can even try and guess, heavy footsteps come running up behind them. Mark’s thankful Rosé is quick with a sword, clanging of medal echoing around them. Mark pulls out his own weapon, stepping back as Rosé uses all her force to throw back their attacker, the man staggering backwards a few steps. She steps back, allowing them to be in step together as they both lunge, aiming to strike the man from both sides. 

The man parries Rosé’s attack, throwing out his arm allowing Mark’s hit to be taken by the leather brace on his forearm, throwing Mark a little off balance. By the time Mark has the chance to get back from staggering slightly, the attacker shoves Rosé back and takes off, jumping over the fence of the cemetery and scaling the building next door. 

They both take off, throwing themselves harder to catch up, feet barely touching the rooftops when they slide to a stop. Rosé grabs Mark before he falls over the edge knowing it's a lost cause as their attacker, wearing a rich black jacket, becomes a small dot in the distance. He didn’t even spare them the luxury of looking back at them. 

Mark drops, sitting on the roof, allowing himself the chance to rest and catch his breath. Rosé drops next to him, pulling her hood off, tipping her head back and allowing the rain to fall over her, cooling her off. He mentally kicks himself for letting their attacker go, not even having anything to describe the person besides the color of their coat. 

“Do you get a good look at his face?”

“No, but I did see that he had a cloth wrapped around his mouth. With the hood and with that, he was covered completely. At least he was smart enough to do that, I’ve seen templars stupid enough to come into a fight with their entire face being seen.” 

“When did you fight templars in that kind of a situation?” He looks over at her, a giant smile on her face. She’s still facing up, stray pieces of black hair sticking to her face. 

“That’s for me to know and for Jinki and you to never find out. It wasn’t really much, just some punches. Nothing I couldn’t handle, you should have seen the templars.” She looks over at him and laughs. 

They don’t get time like this anymore, time for the two of them to sit above their city and relax. The growing tensions have taken away days of rest, so much time planning and doing that days have passed without a moment of rest. 

Mark can feel the tension draining from his shoulders, moving his arms back to lean better and he’s about to flop back and let the rain completely wash over him when a series of gunshots go off just down the road. They’re both up on their feet, hoods back on and they’re running along the edge trying to see what has caused the commotion. They crouch on the edge of the building at the end of the block and study the vicious crowd. 

They take in the scene of a large mob of angry peasants, pushing down the fence and storming their way into a small chateau. They go spilling in, filling up every space that they can, destroying the carriage parked in the front and begin pounding onto the windows and doors. They watch the glass break inwards, angry screams growing louder when panic begins blooming in Mark’s chest, causing him to stagger backwards.

“Mark?”

“I have to go, I have - Rosie, go back home. I have to -”

“Breath. Go, check on him to calm yourself. I’ll be okay, I’m going to keep my eyes on this right now.” 

Mark takes off, flying over the rooftops, thankful that he doesn’t slip on the wet tiles. He jumps over a gap between two different buildings, the white chateau coming into his sight as he gets closer. He jumps down, flying over the stone walkways, throwing a ‘sorry’ behind him into the wind when he slams into someone. He throws himself over the garden wall, sneaks his way through the hedges and, using the lower balcony, jumps up to grab the ledge leading into Bambam’s bedroom. 

He pulls himself over, throwing open the window doors and crashes onto the floor scaring both the room’s owner and his dresser. 

“Mark? What’s wrong? Is that blood on your neck, are you hurt?” He rushes over to him, cradling his head in his hand, removing his hood and starts looking over him. “Ten get the basin of water.”

Mark grabs Bambam’s hands, the panic slowly disappearing as he cradles him, feeling that Bambam is safe and alive. He moves his head, kissing the palm of Bambam’s left hand and leans into it. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay.” He mutters over and over again, missing how Bambam’s eyes widen in worry. Ten rushes in, holding the basin of water, two cloths thrown over his arm. Bambam tilts Mark’s head back, cleaning the stain on his neck and softly dries it.

“It wasn’t a cut, just dirt.” Bambam drops the dirty cloth into the basin, dropping the dry cloth back onto Ten’s arm and allows him to take it away. “Take off your jacket, gloves and boots, you’re dripping and ruining my rug.” He removes them, following Bambam into the seating room and drops them by the fireplace. 

“Thank you for the basin Ten.” Bambam says, sitting down onto the lounge couch. He’s staring up at Mark’s who lost in thought, watching the rain come down out the window.

“No problem sir. Is there anything else you need? Would you like for me to bring up tea?”

“No.” Bambam says, reaching out, grabbing Mark’s hand and bringing him over towards him. 

“No thank you Ten.” Mark murmurs, falling onto the empty spot of the couch. He misses the bow but hears the snort come from the black haired dresser before the door clicks shut. 

Mark throws his arm around Bambam, pulling him against him. Bambam wraps his arms around his middle, leaning his head against his chest and relaxes. 

“What had you worked up? I’ve never seen you like that.” 

“Just a riot, I wanted to make sure you were okay. I worry about you.” Mark drops a kiss to the top of his head, eyes lost in the fire ahead of them. “I’m going to stay tonight and keep watch, if anything happens I’ll be here to get you out.”

“Get me out? And take me where?” 

“I’ll bring you and then I can figure out where to bring you. Kibum knows people, Jinki knows people, we could get you out of the country and bring you to safety.” 

“You think I would survive anywhere else? I wouldn’t last a day without Ten. Don’t tell him I said that, he’ll never stop bringing it up.” Bambam plays with the cloth of Mark’s shirt. “This cloth is really bad quality, I can get you some new shirts.” He gets another kiss on the top of his head as a response. 

“Let’s get you into bed, I need to start keeping watch.” Mark gets up, leading Bambam into the other room, ignoring the whines and complaints. “Please for me, do this for me. You don’t have to sleep but I just need you to be in bed.” 

“Fine,” Bambam flops back into his bed. “Only if you join me.”

Mark’s in the middle of moving a chair into the corner of the room, allowing him the access to watch if anyone enters the from the seating area or the windows of the bedroom. He stops, turns around and stares at his boyfriend. 

“How am I meant to keep watch if I’m in bed?” He sits down. Bambam leans up on his elbows, a smirk forming, long legs pulling themselves up onto the bed. 

“I mean -”

“Goodnight Bambam. I love you, sleep well.” He dodges the pillow thrown at him. “Thought those pillows were expensive and could never touch the floor?”

“You’re so frustrating. And give me back my pillow, I need all of them to sleep.” Bambam whines, he’s now laying on his side, watching Mark toss the pillow up in the air to catch it again. “Baby, please.” 

Mark’s aware of the reputation he’s built himself, a thorn in the side of the templars. He’s one to jump into a mission, leave the scene bloody and receive another job well done from Jinki at the end of the day. He’s also very aware that his reputation makes him seem cold to allies that end up working with their sect, a cold reputation that has spread throughout the templars, one to know that Mark does not crack under pressure easily. But with Bambam? One small ‘baby’ with wide eyes and pouty lips, he’s done for. 

Mark gets up, bringing the pillow with him, throwing it over onto the pile with the rest of them - truly he doesn’t know how his boyfriend sleeps with that many pillows - and climbs onto the bed next to him. He sits there, running his fingers through the younger’s dark hair, earning himself little purrs, leaning down to kiss his temple. He lays down, facing the younger, stroking Bambam’s cheek until he sees his eyes start to droop. He flops onto his back, staring up at the canopy of the bed and closes his eyes. He hears Bambam shift, the bed dipping as he moves and then all his senses are filled with his boyfriend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for the kudos and comments! i hope everyone enjoys this chapter!


	4. Chapter 4

Mark wakes up just as the sun begins to rise, filling the room with a soft orange glow. Breaking out of Bambam’s hold, he gathers up his clothes and begins getting dressed. He’s just tying up his pants when he hears the shifting of sheets behind him. He peaks over his shoulder to find a very tired, mess of bed head peeking up at him. Bambam blinks slowly, before he gathers what’s going on and quickly begins blinking away the sleepiness. 

“Hey, come back to bed, it’s cold.”

“I have to go before someone comes in and wakes you, you know this.”

“But we didn’t even get to cuddle, God this is the worst.” He hears Bambam slamming back down onto the bed. “Ten does know you, so I don’t know why you act like this.” Mark searches for his shirt, giving Bambam silent praise for throwing it not only across the room but getting it behind the vanity mirror. 

“Are you ever going to tell me what all those scars are from?” Bambam’s voice is small, causing Mark to turn around and look at him, once his head pops out of the top of his shirt. 

Mark knows what every scar on his body, let alone his back, is from. Training gone wrong, missions gone wrong, even from miscalculated jumps causing Mark to fall and not land on his feet. Every scar holds the secret to his life as an assassin, a world he doesn’t want Bambam to be completely involved in. Bambam knows he’s an assassin, someone just doesn’t climb up to a second floor balcony or jump across the street without there being something. But Mark makes sure that Bambam never knows the details about his daily life, keeping missions a secret. Mark’s worst fear is someone getting to Bambam, using him against him. 

“Maybe one day, when we’re both old.” He makes his way out to the seating area, grabbing his boots, gloves and jacket and putting them on. He turns back around to go back into the bedroom, finding Bambam propped up against the pillows, watching the sun rise into the sky. He turns his head when Mark sits on the edge of the bed, leaning forward to leave a light kiss on his lips.

“I’ll come back this week, I promise.” He cups Bambam’s cheek, Bambam rubbing against the palm slightly. “I can’t come back tonight, but I promise you I can come back another day. I’m working on something and I don’t know where it’s going to take me.” Bambam nods, leaning forward to throw his arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Bambam leans back, connecting their lips together. Bambam pulls them back, falling back among the pillows again. They’re lost in each other, Mark shifting to kneel on the bed to kiss him better, when Ten knocks on the bedroom door. Mark breaks the kiss, detangles Bambam’s arms from around his neck and kisses him onto the forehead before getting up. 

“I love you.” He says, opening the window to the balcony. 

“I love you.” Bambam says, watching Mark jump to the gravel path below, turning his head just as Ten enters the room.

“Good morning sir, I have breakfast waiting for you once you’re all ready for the day.” Ten moves, going through the daily motions, seemingly ignoring the window doors wide open. He moves to pick out what Bambam will be wearing today, moving through the small room considered the closet. Bambam gets out of bed, shivering as his feet touch the floor, and bends down to pick up his nightshirt where it landed on the side of the bed. He makes his way across the room, stopping just shy of the vanity dresser and waits. 

Ten comes out of the room, placing the clothing onto the dresser and begins to dress him. Breeches, shirt, stockings, a light blue waistcoat and then a slightly darker blue jacket before Bambam is led to the cushion seat and Ten works on his makeup. He watches Ten through the mirror as he brushes down his hair, using a cream out of a jar to keep it in place. 

Light blue was what he was dressed in as a baby, his mother decorating his rooms with the same shades, surrounding him with the “happy color”. He’s an adult, able to choose and pick what he orders to wear, but can never truly get away from the comfort it brings him. He lifts his feet as Ten slips on the heeled shoes, helping him stand up from his seat. He quickly digs through the dish on the vanity, slipping on a gold band with a single pearl on the top onto his pointer finger. 

Ten has laid out a small breakfast of tea, fruits, cheese, and bread on the table in the sitting room and leaves Bambam in peace while he goes and fixes up the bedroom. He comes back in for a moment, to inform him of his daily schedule.

“I didn’t want to tell you when you woke up because you seem annoyed?” Bambam glares at him. “Alright you were annoyed Mark left, don’t lie to me, but you have a meeting with your parents after breakfast. I’ve been ordered that you eat first and then I have to take you to them.” 

Bambam places his tea cup down, and stares at the food, appetite completely gone. He knows what is coming, his hands starting to slightly shake as he gets up from the table and makes his way over to the door. 

“Ten,” He calls, watching the man come back into the room. “Lead me to where the meeting is please.”

“Of course sir.” He leads him across the chateau, pulling open the door to his father’s study and bows once Bambam is inside the room. Bambam heads towards the couch, facing the one both of his parents are sitting on and sits down. 

“We have excellent news, we found a match. We’ve been in contact with a family, who has a son in the marrying age and we think that this is perfect for the family, for you.” His mother says. 

“When do I meet him?” Bambam says, mask slipping on, emotions being locked and hidden away until later. He knows his duty, what he’s been raised to do, this was coming sooner or later. Mark’s promise to come by later this week echo in his head, Bambam having to count to five to calm himself down. He needs to see Mark, to know that this is going to be okay. 

“Today for lunch, your mother is going to court and I have to start working out the paperwork. The family and I think that a wedding can be held in two months time, three at the latest.” His father explains.

“Of course, it sounds perfect. What’s his name?” Bambam looks at his father, making eye contact, hoping that the call for help is seen. 

“Yugyeom, be nice to the boy. I know how you can get when you’re upset, don’t try to lie to me I know you are. You’ve known that this was coming, that you have to do this. Now let’s enjoy this time together before you have to go and wait to meet him.” Bambam takes a small cake, breaking it in half and starts eating it, it tastes bland when it hits his tongue. 

\-------

Mark enters the café through the main foyer, weaving through the hallways until he finds the doorway leading to the courtyard in the back of the house, fenced in from the outside world. When Mark first arrived, the courtyard was overflowing with weeds and broken furniture. After Jinyoung and Jisoo’s arrival, they all spent a week clearing it out and turning it into a place where they could practice outdoors. 

Mark finds Jisoo and Rosé sparring, jackets thrown over the backs of chairs and their shirt sleeves rolled up. He sits in one of the empty chairs, stifling a yawn and watching them practice, watching Rosé stab sending Jisoo’s saber across the courtyard, clanging against the stone wall. Mark and Jisoo share a quiet good morning while Rosé goes to get the sword.

“Good morning, kind sir, some of us have been up since dawn waiting for their partner to get their ass up and home.” Rosé throws the saber over, moving back into position to start another round. Mark yawns again. “Long night?”

“You have no idea.” He jokes, earning grosses from the two assassins sparing and one from Lisa who’s just landed from jumping over the wall. She sits next to him, pushing her jacket off and lounges back to watch the fight. Mark’s caught up with watching the foot work before he remembers he never got to ask Lisa about her mission. 

“What ever happened with your mission?” Mark turns to look at Lisa.

“Oh, it wasn’t anything. Which is weird because Jinki made it seem important. I sat there the majority of the day, watching the family come and go. I snuck into the house, searched everything and didn’t find one thing making me believe the family was a templar family.” 

“That’s odd. What did you tell him?”

“The truth, but he urged me to go back. So that was what I did yesterday, went waited and again nothing. Just a rich father, mother and son. I have to tell him again, maybe Kibum can back me up and he won’t send me there again. There’s enough going on in the city to waste another day watching that family.” 

Shadows cast over them, causing them to turn and look at Rosé and Jisoo who have finished their practice, pouring water from the jug and slowly drinking it. They begin to split up, Jisoo taking her coat and the jug back into the house, Lisa following behind her and Mark waits for Rosé to get ready again. She’s fixing her braid, watching Mark before she speaks. 

“We should probably figure out what else we can start looking into. Unless you want to head back to the scene of the crime to check it out again or we can go back to the cemetery and hope no one attacks us this time.” Mark gets up, following Rosé through the house, down into their meeting room. 

“I told Jinki about the attacker.” Rosé continues, pulling out all their reports, notes and the map found on the body. “He told us to be careful, if people are attacking us for just looking into this means we’re on the right track. It also means they’re watching the locations tied to whatever the assassin was looking into.” 

Mark pulls the map owned by the assassin over and studies it. There are markings all over the map, some with ‘x’s and some with just slashes through them. Flipping it over, he’s disappointed to find that there’s no key written to understand the mess on the front. He places it down, looking at the map of Paris Rosé has rolled out. 

“Do you have something I can use to mark places on the map?”

“Yeah,” She gets up, digging through the desk behind them below the giant map, and comes back with little weights to use. “These will work.”

He digs into the bag, taking one and placing it onto the general area of where the body was found and the other onto the basilica where they were attacked. Rosé is studying the map, looking down onto the ones with the markings. 

“They’re really close to each other, maybe the person that did this is from around there.” Rosé notes. “But, why have it so close to home, unless they planted the body.”

“It has to be, no one would go through this much trouble to be caught because they dropped a body in their backyard.”

They spend the next thirty minutes in silence, looking over each map and re-reading their two reports trying to find anything that jumps out at them. They’ve finally had enough, Rosé who had gotten up to pace the room thinking and Mark who had pulled down books trying to find a connection between the few clues they had. 

“You know what Mark,” Rosé breaks the silence. “Tomorrow, we split the places on that map down the middle and we go see what’s going on. There are two different marks, the x and the slash, so maybe we can figure out the difference and move from there. Us staring at pieces of paper isn’t getting us anywhere. And to be quite honest, I’m going to go fucking insane.” 

“That’s a good idea. Here,” He picks up the map, holding it between the two of them. “Pick the places that you want and I’ll grab the leftovers. We’ll meet back up here tomorrow night with the reports.”

Rosé studies the map before pointing out the places that she wants to check out before turning back to the table to pack up their stuff. Mark helps, then races her upstairs to grab something to eat. A day off won’t hurt them, it’s not like the map can tell them it’s secrets. 

\--------

Bambam waits in a different sitting room, a tea and more cakes are spread out in front of him on a low table. He stares out the window, seated on the couch. He’s not meant to get up, not meant to look like he’s waiting and wasting his time. Manners are important, he hears his mother’s voice in his head, brattiness gets you nowhere. Which is a lie, he thinks, being slightly bratty got him this far in life. 

He finally hears the door open, turning to find his father coming in with a man behind him. The man has dark black hair, a soft face and is about his age. He seems to be slightly taller - nothing heels can’t fix - and is dressed in a waistcoat and jacket, a dark rich green. Bambam notes the difference in makeup, feeling slightly like a doll, before he gets up and waits to be introduced. 

“Bambam,” His father leads the duo over. “Meet Yugyeom, Yugyeom meet my son.” 

Bambam knows the drill, he sticks out his hand and waits for Yugyeom to take it. He does, slightly bowing before dropping a kiss onto the top.

“Nice to meet you Bambam. Let’s sit, the tea and cakes look delicious.” Bambam turns around, sitting back down, making sure there’s room for Yugyeom to sit next to him, leaving him room to breathe and move around. He looks up to find his father heading back towards the door, panic racing through his body. 

“I’m sorry I can’t stay, I know I should but I have business I need to attend too. Enjoy yourselves, get to know each other.” 

Bambam watches the door close before he turns. Yugyeom is watching him, a smile forming when their eyes meet and moves to get a plate and cup together for Bambam and himself. Bambam nods in thanks when the plate is passed to him, waiting and watching at what Yugyeom chooses to eat. Once he has his own, Bambam picks up a desert and begins to eat. 

“So,” He clears his throat. “What business is your family in? Or is your money old?” 

“We deal with textiles, so new money.” Yugyeom takes a sip of tea before continuing. “It’s kinda boring but dad expects me to take over the company sooner than later. You know, after the wedding in a few months.” 

“Of course.” Bambam takes another bite. He feels like he’s dying, the conversation is dry and boring. 

“Your father mentioned you only dress in light blues,” Yugyeom runs a hand down Bambam’s arm, Bambam having to hide the sharp intake of breath, hating touch from anyone other than Ten and Mark. “It’s just in the planning stages, but I would like to send someone over to have you measured possibly later this week. A new jacket and waistcoat as a present, if you don’t mind.” 

“I don’t mind, I just need to choose the color.” Bambam places his plate onto the table, taking a sip of his tea hopefully ending the conversation.

“Of course, I will send over color samples.”   
Thankfully, Bambam’s father comes in at that time allowing Bambam to excuse himself from the business deal that is his engagement and makes his way back to rooms. He’s just closing the door, Ten rushing out his bedroom before Bambam breaks, screams until his throat hurts and his voice is gone. 

“I have a bath ready for you sir, to help you relax.” 

He undresses Bambam, wiping his makeup off and slipping his ring off. Bambam slides into the hot water, feeling the tension leave his body. He slips underneath the water, putting his whole body under the water washing away all unwanted touches. He curses Mark for not coming back tonight, the one night he really needs him to be there. He knows this is a business deal and a business deal alone, but the thought of marriage to a random man repulses him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you everyone for reading! i hope you're enjoying it so far, our story is just beginning. all kudos and comments are appreciated truly, helps me know if you guys are enjoying it so far. i'll try to make updates regular since i've been bad at updating.


	5. Chapter 5

Mark has all of their papers spread out on the table, his notes written from today’s activities and waits for Rosé to come back home with her information. He’s lost in thought, trying to make sense of the clues they found at the cemetery, his thoughts trailing off to his boyfriend when he hears footsteps coming down the stone staircase. He turns to find his best friend standing here, messy looking and tired. 

Her hood is down, long black hair flowing over her shoulders freed from its usual braid. Her jacket is unbuttoned, her tunic skewed and slightly untucked and there’s a rip at the knee of her pants. She walks over, dropping her notes onto the table and slumps into the chair next to him. He waits, watching her shift in her seat, jacket coming off and thrown over the back of her chair. Once she’s comfortable, she turns to him. 

“I don’t want to talk about it. Actually, no, I do. I got caught up in a stupid riot on the way home. Didn’t even hear the beginning of it, just all of a sudden I’m surrounded by an angry mob shouting about who knows what. Got pushed and pulled until I could finally shove myself out of the crowd.” She smacks her small pile of notes. “But I have stuff to talk about, so take that.” Mark motions for her to go first. 

“A lot of places seemed to be nothing, couldn’t find anything odd and no one hanging around that seemed to catch my attention. Though, the Palace of Justice had some few stranglers this morning in dark robes. They went their separate ways but that was really it.” 

“I had something similar, at the Church of Saint-Gervais-Saint-Protais had a small group of people hanging around as the sun started going down. Not only that, the two saints are similar to our other one, both executed.” Mark says. “I’m starting to wonder if the places aren’t only marked because of the people coming and going but possibly also for the names and people behind it.” 

“It’s possible,” Rosé says, both of them looking down to find if there’s a link to the places they’ll label busts. “The group of people I saw were dressed in black robes, there’s no way to know if our attacker was a part of that group. Who knows what our secret groups are out there, meeting in the dead of night. We don’t even know if our attacker is from a group.” 

“You’re right, we have nothing to go on with our attacker. It could be anyone in this city.” Mark leans back, stretching his legs out underneath the table. “Maybe we should go back to our two locations together tomorrow and keep watch. Not even to look for shady groups, maybe there’s something there our fallen assassin wants us to see and we just can’t find it alone.” 

“Alright,” Rosé gets up, stretching. “Can you clean up? I want to go take a bath and look presentable again. Plus I think Lisa should be back from her mission already, so I want to spend time with her.” 

“Sure,” Mark packs up, waving goodnight to Rosé. He extunishes the candles once he’s done, locking up the door and heading out into the café. It’s empty but he hears two bodies moving around cleaning up behind the counter. He yawns, making his way other. “Goodnight.” He calls, pulling himself up the staircase. 

He walks down to the end of the hallway, feet dragging behind him, past closed doors. He pushes open the door to his bedroom and sleepily gets ready for bed. He feels like something is nagging him about the case, his brain too muddled to figure out. He’s slipping into bed, thoughts cleared of murdered assassins and black hooded attackers, and thinks of his boyfriend, his smile and laugh and realizes how much he misses Bambam. He promises himself to go see him sooner, maybe he’ll try tomorrow tonight, not wanting to spend any more time apart. He clutches the blanket around himself tighter, wishing that there was a body next to him to keep himself and the bed warm. 

\-----------

They set out right as the sun is starting to come up, heading across rooftops to avoid the streets that are quickly filling with people. They reach their first destination, dropping down into an alleyway and making their way to the church that towers over them. They aren’t sure what they’re even looking for, or if there's someone here that could point them in the right direction, agreeing to split up and blend into the crowds around the church’s square. 

They end up running into each other, both embarrassed since they’re trained to be aware of their surroundings and make their way, to walk the length of the church when suddenly Rosé detours over to one of the old trees in the yard. Mark watches her climb up half way up the tree, sticking her hand into a tree hollow and pulls out a bundle of letters. Mark can see the red ribbon tying it together, finds it fitting for the revolution stirring around them. 

She drops down, pulling the bow out from the fabric and counts the pieces of papers while she’s walking back over to Mark. She looks up, shaking the stray piece of hair out of her face and holds up the papers with a wide smile. 

“How did you know that was there?” He asks, reaching for the papers. 

“There’s a faint line of red paint around the rim of the hollow.” She points, the sunlight making it hard but he finally sees it when she shifts his body over a bit. “Only an assassin would be able to catch it, meaning that these are meant for us. I think our dead assassin left them for us.” 

She hands him the top folded paper, watching him open it to reveal a hand drawn map that they can only describe as a spider’s web. There are lines connecting ‘x’s, all drawn into a middle where a red ‘x’ is marked. Mark flips the paper over, a disappointed sigh escaping at the lack of a key again, flipping it back over to study it again. 

“These seem to be notes pertaining to whoever is behind the murder and what they were doing.” Rosé shows him six pieces of paper, filled with scribbles of notes and drawings. “I don’t even know where to begin making sense of these. Is that any help?” 

“It’s a spider web so I doubt it,” Mark folds it up, handing it back to her and watches her tie it all back up the way she found it. ”Any ideas?”

“Hmm,” She pockets the package, looking around to make sure no one’s watching them or coming up to attack them. “Do you think that spider web means Notre Dame? You know, the center of Paris and there was a large ‘x’ in the middle?” 

He shrugs, it’s the best they could do at the moment. They both turn, heading into the center of the city. As they make their way closer, the large cathedral standing tall, its bells ringing echoing around them, the crowd starts to thicken up. Mark taps her on the shoulder, scaling a building and jumping until they stop on a roof overlooking the square below them and the angry, screaming mob. They both sit, feet dangling over the edge and stare up at the tall bell towers. 

“Take out the papers again, let’s look at those notes.” Mark gets handed three, while Rosé keeps the other three, placing the spider web back into her pocket. 

The three pages are filled with descriptions of people, things the author saw and places he went too. Mark flips through them all, finding a few repeating phrases but so much of it is lost to him. Some lines have been crossed out, question marks drawn around some words and arrows connecting things left and right. It has to mean something, Mark just can’t figure out what. 

“We can assume that our assassin was watching a group of people, six since we have six papers.” He shuffles to another page. “They seemingly have a similar goal, ‘plan’ written multiple times on each of these papers. There’s also ‘pin on - pin on assassins’ here. Oh that’s great, so there’s something coming that they want us to take the blame for. Or tried too, our assassin died but did he stop it?” 

“What’s this?” Rosé points on the bottom of one of the papers, a drawing that resembles a crest. In a square at the bottom corner is a bird with three straight lines underneath, two arrows point to the box one leading to the word ‘red’ and the other leading to the word ‘purple’. “How good are you at remembering the symbolizes the coat of arms?” 

“You’re really funny.” Mark says as he takes the page to study the drawing better.

“Thank you I know I am,” Rosé looks over the remaining notes. “That’s the only one that it’s on, meaning that either it’s the symbol for the group, symbol to represent the leader or it’s someone with that coat of arms. Also I noticed on the page with the crest ‘pearl’ is mentioned multiple times. I’m not sure why but it’s just that page.” 

Mark scrubs his face, looking out over the courtyard and growing crowd. While he’s thankful that they have more information, it just seems like every time they get something new, twenty more questions are added onto the mission. 

“Why don’t we head back home.” Mark stands up, pocketing the papers into his chest pocket. “I don’t think anything is here, it’s too busy for a group of people secretly planning something to hide.” Mark’s getting ready to climb down when Rosé stops him. She pats the spot next to her again, swinging her feet slightly as Mark drops down next to her.

“Do you think this is the templars?” She asks, eyes scanning the surrounding rooftops. 

“I’m not sure,” He says, eyes doing the same. “They don’t move like this but who else really knows about us. Everything seems to be kept in secret, too much of it in the dark.” 

“I think we should treat this like it is them, it allows us to have something to bounce back too if we get anything wrong.” She stands up. “We just have to be even more careful now, especially if they know we’re on their case.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slightly shorter chapter but important chapter! i hope everyone is enjoying this story so far! kudos and comments are more than welcomed!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope everyone is enjoying the fic! kudos and comments are always welcomed! can't believe we're almost there! i got my laptop fixed so the chapters will come more often. see you guys soon!

Knocks on their bedroom doors, wake them up bright and early the next day, Jinki’s voice calling for a family meeting in an hour. They all shuffle to get up and down the staircase to sit around the table again waiting for their leader to make an appearance. Mark’s never seen everyone this tired and drained, Jisoo resting her head onto her brother’s shoulder. Mark’s brought their notes and their latest find, pulling it out and spends the time before the meeting looking over the spiderweb again, trying to make sense from the lines. He’s about to turn to Rosé, who’s facing Lisa, when Jinki comes sweeping into the room in a rush. 

“This will be a quick meeting, I know everyone is extremely tired and extremely busy. I never wish to have you all like this, you know that, but with these tensions I have to put you in these spots. I only ask that you are all being careful, please I thank you for all of your hard work.” Jinki turns to face Lisa. “Lisa, I -”

“Don’t you dare tell me to go back to that house again.” She sits up, knocking Rosé from where she was leaning on the armrest. “Jinki we both know there isn’t anything there, I’ve been there every day this week.”

“I know, but - but,” He holds his hands up to stop her, changing quickly to stick up his pointer finger. “One more time, just watch the house. Follow someone that leaves the house, you don’t have to go from sunrise to sunset. Lisa, there’s something there, which is why I keep sending you back. I wouldn’t have received a tip about it.” 

Lisa slouches back into her seat, muttering under her breath how it’s a waste of her time. Jinki sends her a smile, before turning to the siblings on the other side of the table.

“We’ve broken up two mobs this week, ones where they got too out of hand. Nothing much besides that.” Jinyoung says, Jisoo is still resting on his shoulder. Jinki nods, turning to Mark and Rosé. He smiles at them, the smile fading as they look down, as they avoid his gaze. 

“What do you two have?” 

Mark flips through the papers in front of him, Rosé sending Jinki a smile before it drops. Their silence is telling, Jinki sighing probably louder than he meant too. 

“We’re stuck, but we’re getting there.” Mark says, fixing the stack of papers in front of him. They want to head out soon to watch over the Palace of Justice today, trying to brainstorm the notes they found yesterday. 

Jinki breaks up the meeting, sending them off with ‘good luck’ and ‘be safe’ as they all file out of the room. Mark’s mind runs over the four words that stuck out to them over and over again, hoping he can understand what the assassin meant with ‘pearl’, ‘justice’, ‘assassin’ and ‘plan’.

\----------

Bambam is brought back from a meeting with his mother to find his sitting room filled with rolls of different shades of blue fabric spread out across his room, people he’s never met before and Ten. It’s always a good thing when he can find Ten in a room, he comes over to lead him into the room and out of the frozen state by the door. Ten brings him closer, Bambam spotting that his fiance is here as well and Ten tightens the grip on his waist to keep him from fleeing. 

“Hello sir, you must be Bambam.” A small woman with dark black hair steps up from within the crowd of people and curtsy in front of him. “My name is Jennie, I’ll be measuring you for your new suit. Please step over here.” 

Bambam follows her, Ten helping him remove his heels and jacket and steps closer to where she is, arms stretched out next to him. His eyes scan the men in the room, finding no one he knows, before they land on his fiance at the window. 

“Hello Bambam.” Yugyeom says, who’s leaning up against the wall. “I hope you don’t mind that I’m here, I just wanted to make sure that everything is up to par, for both of you and myself.” 

“It’s fine.” Bambam, realizing he doesn’t have a say in the matter anyway, relaxes when he feels the measuring tape circling his waist. He stands up straighter, allowing the seamstress to do her job. 

The room falls into silence as Jennie measures him, softly said directions being the only thing breaking it as she instructs Bambam how to move. Once she’s done, she informs him to choose the fabric he wishes, curtsies again and moves out of his way. He looks over the fabric, eyes skimming until he lands on a sky blue, lace fabric on the couch nearest him. He’s just running his hand over it when he feels Yugyeom step up behind him, pressing himself against Bambam’s back. Bambam freezes, hand still stretched out and tries to calm himself. He’s too close, Bambam’s starting to shake when a voice breaks through his panic.

“Sir, would you like lunch brought up here?” Ten asks, standing behind the couch Bambam is standing in front of. Bambam makes eye contact, hoping Ten sees how thankful he is. 

“Yes, thank you.” Bambam side steps away, bringing the bundle of fabric with him and moving around to look over the other ones. He stops at a darker shade, comparing it to the one in his hand and is happy with the match. He turns, motioning for the seamstress to come over.

“These two,” He hands her the first one before picking up his second choice. “If you don’t mind, could you make the waistcoat in one color and the jacket be the other?” 

“Of course, that’s no issue.” She takes the two chosen fabrics, and begins instructing the other men in the room to pack up and file out. The room empties, the last man just leaving when Ten returns with lunch and servants to set the table. He turns to thank him, finding that Yugyeom is still there and watching him. 

“Stay, there’s enough for the both of us.” Bambam smiles, walking over to the table once Ten helps him put his jacket and shoes back on. A servant pulls out a chair for him, pushing him in slightly once he sits down and brings over the food. “You must be hungry, coming all this way to watch me choose fabric.” 

The meal is awkward, silence falling over them as they eat and Bambam avoids making eye contact. They’re close to being done, the servants plating the desert when Yugyeom speaks up.

“You know,” He takes a sip from his wine glass. “While we’re here, together without your parents to watch the conversation, we should discuss how our marriage will work.” 

Bambam knows exactly how, he doesn’t need a reminder, but he stays silent, nodding in agreement. Yugyeom places his wine glass down, their eyes connecting and Bambam waits for whatever rules are about to be placed on his head. 

“Of course, I will be in charge of my father’s business, you being home to make sure that the house runs. For business purposes, along with our families, we will be an adoring married couple on the weekdays. But on weekends, and when we’re alone, I can do what I want, choose who I want.” 

“Of course.” Bambam waves to the servants to clean up the plates and bring the desert. He’s never hated his role in life like he does right now.

\--------

They’re on the roof facing the Palace of Justice, staring down at the angry mob and looking for anything. It seems familiar to yesterday’s failure at Notre Dame but they sit and wait. They take turns scouting the area, moving around the block, walking the roofs before returning back with nothing new to report. The only clue at how much time they spend there is the sun moving across the sky, reminding them of the time they’re wasting when Mark turns to Rosé.

“How’s Lisa?” He asks, eyes scanning the buildings behind them. 

“She’s frustrated. She keeps getting sent out to watch the same house by Jinki, Kibum wants her to start seriously training Minji because we’re going to need the extra help if the revolution doesn’t end any time soon. She’s also frustrated at me because she knows I’m working on something that’s bothering me and I won’t tell her about it.” Rosé leans back, balancing her weight on the palm of her hands. “I wish I could tell her about it but where to even begin. We have stuff but can’t figure out how to connect it. It also doesn’t help that she’s stuck watching a house for almost a week and I’m out and about.” 

Mark nods, having seen Lisa bicker with Jinki this morning and overhearing Lisa ranting to Jisoo about it the other night when he came home. He doesn’t understand what Jinki thinks she’ll find, especially if she’s turned up empty handed this many times already, but he can only hope that she does since it seems important. 

“How’s Bambam?” She knocks into his shoulder, letting out a laugh when she sees the smile grow on his face. “God, he’s really the only one that can make you that happy huh.” 

“Oh shush. But he’s frustrated. I can never see him as much as I want too or as much as he wants me to be there and he’s been raised to be a tool in a business deal disguised as a marriage.” He looks down at his hands. “There’s only so many times I can kiss his worries anyway.” 

“He could always marry you. I think the household could use someone new, to spice up the daily routine. I think Kibum and him would get along well.”

“They probably would but he won’t, doubt he would even think it would be possible.” He turns to her, looking over his shoulder. “You don’t even want to know the amount of times I’ve offered to take him away in the middle of the night, bring him back to the café and let him stay there. Let him get out of there, let him be with me. I would do anything to make it comfortable for him. I can only promise him that wherever he goes, I will follow him.” 

Silence falls over them, the sound of the mob below them filtering up through the air. Mark watches the birds fly through the sky, the setting sun making them dark spots in the distance. The sun sets, leaving them in darkness, the gates to the palace empty until dawn the next day. They get up, brushing off their jackets and pants and head back home, empty handed once again. Mark falls into bed, reaching out for a body that isn’t there.


	7. Chapter 7

He pushes open the window door slowly, making sure not to make any noise to disturb Bambam who is still asleep in bed. The sun hasn’t risen yet, Mark figures he has at least an hour until sunrise, and closes the door behind him. He toes off his boots, dropping his jacket, gloves and saber onto the floor and tiptoes over to the bed. 

He pulls back the blankets, slipping into the bed and carefully moving the body of his sleeping boyfriend until his head is resting on his chest. He carefully pushes his hair back, looks down at his sleeping face, stroking his cheek. He shifts just enough to grab the blankets, covering them both back up and relaxes back. 

He doesn’t show up in the morning, to avoid being caught, but with the frustration of this mission and the over-growing feeling of missing his boyfriend, Mark decided to throw caution to the wind just this once and sneak in before anyone got up. He’s lightly tracing patterns into Bambam’s back when he feels his boyfriend stir. He moves his head, blinking away sleep from his eyes before he moves his head to look up at Mark. 

“What are you doing here?” Bambam yawns, shifting his body to get comfortable. 

“I missed you, I wanted to see you so badly and I couldn’t wait until tonight to come see you.” Mark brushes Bambam’s bangs out of his face again. “Good morning Bambam.”

“I could get used to this.” Bambam hums, eyes dropping shut again. He moves his body more, resting his head better on Mark’s chest and tangles their legs together. Mark runs his fingers through his hair, Bambam drifting back to sleep and Mark feeling himself lulled into sleep.

He wakes up to someone shaking him, blinking his eyes open and stretching to find Ten above him. He moves to sit up, waking Bambam up in the process and leans back against the headframe and pillows. He rubs the sleep from his eyes, turning to face Ten who’s smiling down at them.

“I’m sorry to bother the both of you but he needs to get up and get dressed to begin his day.” Marks nods, a yawn coming from Bambam where he’s hidden his face in his chest as his answer. Mark watches Ten move away, going and picking up the clothes for Bambam from the closet. 

“I don’t want to get up,” Bambam burrows into the blankets. “They’ll make me discuss - oh you don’t know.” Bambam sits up, turning to face Mark and moves his body until he’s straddling his legs. “I’m engaged.” 

Mark feels his world stop, Bambam staring at him with wide brown eyes, tears forming quicker and quicker. He knew that this would happen one day, a business deal that would cause Bambam to marry someone and take him away. It doesn’t matter how many times Bambam has sworn that marriage wouldn’t change them, or how he feels about Mark, it’s still something Mark has never been ready to happen. He opens his arms, pulling Bambam against his chest and lets him cry. 

“I don’t want to get married. He’s so boring, he’s in the textile industry and he,” A sob is let out. “He touched my arm and it felt so uncomfortable, he’s not you. He’s not Ten. He wants to give me a suit for the engagement, a nice gift he says. We had the measuring for it yesterday, never felt so uncomfortable to be in my own rooms before.” 

Mark looks up, finding Ten placing a basin of water on the vanity and motioning that he’ll be outside waiting in the sitting room. Mark nods, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before dropping a kiss onto the top of Bambam’s head. 

“Baby,” Mark picks up Bambam’s head, making him look at him. “Run away with me, I’ll take you home.” Bambam shakes his head, tucking his head into the crook of Mark’s neck and cries. “Why won’t you do this? You’ll be happy, I’ll do anything to make you happy.” 

“How would I survive? I know nothing else but this life. I can’t run away, I have to do this, I was born for this and this alone.” Bambam pulls away, wiping his eyes and climbing over Mark to get off the bed. “Ten!” He pulls off his nightshirt, dropping it at his feet and waits to be dressed. He watches his face with the water waiting on the vanity before standing back in place. 

Mark watches him from the bed, watches Ten come in and begin the process of making Bambam up to be presentable in court. He goes from the Bambam he only ever gets to see to the Bambam that he sometimes doesn’t recognize, all done in silks and blues. Bambam sits down, makeup applied, the rogue on his cheeks bright enough that Mark can see them from across the room. He gets up, moving his way to stand next to Bambam at the vanity mirror. 

Bambam looks up at him before looking back at his reflection and taking a deep breath. He reaches forward, moving away from the brush fixing up his hair, and searches through the bowl of rings, digging for the one he wants. Mark watches as he turns, opening drawers before he stops, picking something up and stands up. Without heels, Bambam is shorter than Mark by a few inches, tip-toeing to loop the gold chain around his neck. He moves away, allowing the necklace to hang, a gold ring with a pearl on top falling onto Mark’s chest. 

Mark looks down, picking up the ring between his fingers and rubs his thumb over the pearl. Bambam takes it from him, tucking it into his shirt and kissing his cheek. “I want you to have that.” Bambam moves back to slip into his shoes, before turning to look at him. “So you know that, even with this engagement it’s you I chose.” 

“Do you want me to come tonight? I can make sure Rosé and I are done working today early, I can stay the night.” Mark asks, Bambam already moving towards the door. 

“If you can,” Bambam looks back at him, “I love you.”

“I love you.” Mark stands, the click of the door closing echoing around him. He gets his things, slipping out of the window and heads into the storm of the revolution. 

\-------------

Mark is meant to return home to work through the messages left behind, he’s supposed to pour over the books in the basement to find the coat of arms drawn at the bottom of the page but his feet bring him everywhere but there. He wanders around the city, watching the revolution unfold towards destruction, sounds of anger and of hunger just noises in the wind to him. 

His feet bring him to the cemetery where they were attacked, looking up at the carved stone above the doorway of the church. He studies the relief there, depicting the saint the basilica is named after, holding his head in his hands and silently asks for answers. He wants to understand why the assassin brought them both here and why whoever murdered the assassin used the saint. 

“Are they planning something else? Why did you have us come here?” He asks out loud. He looks around at the graveyard which is a mess and moves on. 

He walks, dodging the crowds spilling out of the rundown buildings and revisits the crime scene. The barrels are long gone but Mark’s able to picture them, trying to retrace the assassin’s footsteps. He finds it possible that the assassin ran from the place he was caught to here and got cornered and killed. He walks down the alleyway, pretending to be the assassin to realize that it is hard to jump up and climb out - barrels or not. 

He’s making his way around the block, checking to see if his thoughts are correct, when he runs into Rosé, they smack into each other. 

“This is the second time this week we’ve run into each other like this, you would think we would be better considering.” Rosé says, rubbing her forehead. 

“Sorry, I was lost in my thoughts.” Mark apologizes. “I think our assassin was murdered here, not dropped off. You can’t easily climb out of the alleyway, there’s nothing to place your feet on.” Mark brings her down the alleyway, pointing out what he’s noticed. 

“Good job, I agree.” Rosé takes out something from her pocket, handing it to him. “Jinki wants to see us tomorrow, wants to help us out. I spent today pouring over the coat of arms and surprise, surprise, I found nothing. Whoever this is, they’re good at covering their tracks.” 

Mark reads the note, asking for both of them in Jinki’s office at noon tomorrow. He folds it up, pocketing it and turning to his best friend. 

“Alright, I’ll see you tomorrow. I’m going to stay out, just look around and keep an eye on things, I want to head back to Bambam tonight.” He elbows her as he starts to walk away. “At least you get a night with Lisa.”

“She has a mission, that family again.”

“Again?” Mark turns around when he’s reached the end of the alleyway. “Well, then Jisoo, Jinyoung and you have a night of silence. I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

\------------

Mark climbs back through the window, shutting it behind him and drops his jacket, weapons and shoes into a pile. He stretches as he makes his way over to the bed, climbing in and reclining back, making himself comfortable. It’s only been a few minutes, before Ten opens the door carrying in a pitcher of water for the tub set up in the corner of the room.

“Ten, don’t get scared it’s just me.” But the man still jumps, just barely spilling the water. Mark biting back a laugh, at the glare he receives. 

“People usually warn someone that they’re there before they enter a room.” Ten pours the water in the tub and turns to face Mark, hand on his hip. He shakes his head, moving to extinguish some of the candles in the room. 

“Sorry about that, where is he?” 

“Just finishing up dinner, he’ll be brought back to his rooms in a few.” Ten moves around, getting the room ready for bed and the nightly routine Mark’s presence will surely mess up. Mark watches how swiftly Ten moves, by the time he’s just finishing, Mark hears the sitting room doors open. 

“Ten?” Bambam's voice fills the silence, Mark’s heart beating faster at it. It doesn’t matter how many times he sees Bambam, nothing stops him from - what he thinks is how Jinyoung explained it to him one night - being so lovesick. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he waits for him to walk into the bedroom. 

“In here.” Ten opens the bedroom doors open, ushering Bambam in. Ten helps him remove his jacket and his shoes before he finally realizes that someone else is in the room. Long legs taking him from across the room in just a few strides, throwing himself onto the bed and hugging Mark in just a few seconds, Mark barely has time to blink before Bambam is up against him.

“You came back.” 

“I told you I would.” Mark rocks him slightly, kissing the top of his head. “Go take off your makeup and get ready for bed, I'm not going anywhere.” 

Bambam rolls off his bed, removing the rest of his clothes before wiping off his makeup. Ten picks up the clothes, excuses himself from the room and closes the door behind him allowing the two of them to be alone. Mark watches Bambam lean back in the tub, the top of his head disappearing. 

“Are you going to talk to me, or just watch me?” Bambam peaks over the side, a smile forming before Bambam breaks out into giggles. “You could join me, there’s enough room.” 

“How are you?” Mark asks, rolling his eyes fondly as he fights back a smile, melting back into the pillows. He plays with a loose string of his end of his shirt. 

“Better now that you’re here. Today wasn’t unbearable.” Bambam slips back into the tub, completely gone from Mark’s view. 

“That’s good, I’m glad you had a good day today.” Mark looks out the window, hearing the splashing of water as Bambam gets out, pulling on his robe and making his way back over to the bed. “Do not think about it, you’re getting to get the bed wet and you’ll complain about it.” 

Bambam turns around, drying off before Mark hears the ruffle of a nightshirt being put on. Mark turns to find Bambam climbing back up the bed, straddling his thighs and throws his arms around his neck. Mark leans up, wrapping his arms around Bambam’s waist and hugs him. He feels the stress in Bambam’s body and his own melt away, pulling back to look at his boyfriend. 

He begins rocking them softly, rubbing his thumb soothingly into his boyfriend’s back and doesn’t break the eye contact Bambam is holding. Bambam moves his hand, softly pushing Mark’s hair out of his face, fingertips tracing down his cheekbone before he moves his hand back, arm going back around his neck. 

“You’ll come and find me right? You won’t let him take me away?” Bambam whispers in the space between them. 

“I told you, it doesn't matter where you go I’m going to come find you. Nothing will keep me from finding you.” Mark whispers back, running his hands soothingly up and down Bambam’s sides. “I love you, I always will.” 

“I love you.” Bambam leans down, kissing him softly before breaking away. He rests his forehead against Mark’s, breathing in the same air. He pushes Mark down slightly, so Mark lays back, and nuzzles his head into his neck. “Did you have a good day?” 

“I’m having a better one now that I’m here with you.” 

At some point, Mark ends up falling asleep, the presence of Bambam next to him lulling him down. Just before he’s too deep, he hears the cover shuffle, covering them up, and Bambam whispers a small ‘goodnight’ before he’s out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> only two more chapters left! i hope everyone is enjoying the story so far and will continue to enjoy it. I'll probably post the finale two chapters before the beginning of next week. Kudos and comments are highly appreciated !


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trigger warning for blood, violence and major character death.

Part of Mark’s mind cycles through everything he has to do today: ‘get home and wash up, make sure they have all their evidence together, the meeting with Jinki, work on the murder case, try to figure out the clues, the meeting with Jinki’ but the other half, the half currently winning, cycles through small movements, kisses and the warm body pressed against him, and the hands playing with his hair. 

He’s dressed, his coat just needing to be buttoned up and hood on so he can go, but he took one look at Bambam, kneeling on his bed, reaching out for him with a soft smile and the thoughts of his busy schedule today was lost. He stepped back to the next of the bed, Bambam leaning up on his knees, wrapping his arms back around his waist, pulling him into a kiss. Which is where they are now, still, Mark running his hands down Bambam’s back as they kiss, time and thoughts disappearing. 

The part of his brain continues to scream about the meeting, about that chance Ten won’t be the one waking Bambam up today but there’s a whisper of how this could be their every morning if they have different lives, or if Bambam let him steal him away in the middle of the night. Thoughts of how nice it would be to wake up with Bambam next to him, kissing him awake every morning before going out on a mission, just to return home to him causing him to hum in the middle of the kiss. It’s cut short by the door opening and Ten speaking loudly into the room, Mark breaking the kiss.

“What are you going to do the day it isn’t me?” Ten asks. He moves to open the window doors, a warm breeze flowing in. Mark turns his head to watch him, his mind yelling louder to move and get home, as Bambam places soft kisses to his cheek. 

“Well, we’ll figure out that when it happens.” Mark pulls Bambam closer, knowing that he really needs to go. “Baby, I have to go. I have a meeting at noon and I need to be prepared.” 

He turns and kisses Bambam once more before Bambam begins buttoning up his jacket, reaching around and placing his hood on his head. Warm hands cup his face, pecking him once again. 

“Ten, I want to stay in bed today. Mother has been at court for the past few days, father has meetings and I don’t have a single tutor.” Bambam rubs the pads of his thumbs on Mark’s face. “You’ll come back tonight? I’ll be waiting for you.” 

“Might be a bit late.” Mark pulls away, making his way to the balcony. He turns around, smiles widely at Bambam who’s watching him. “I love you.”

“I love you.” Thumps of feet hitting the gravel below follow. 

\----------  
Mark and Rosé sit across from Jinki, all their clues, their notes and their maps spread out on his desk, eyes following his movements. Mark waits until Jinki speaks, reading one of their reports, eyes landing back onto the spiderweb map and kicks himself mentally for still not knowing what the importance of it is. Rosé taps him on his knee, signaling that Jinki is about to speak, his eyes tearing away from the piece of paper.

“Well, I understand why you’re both stuck. But let’s walk through what you both are sure of, either relating to the physical murder or the clues.” 

“We know that the assassin was more than likely cornered in the alleyway where we found the body, unable to escape from being cornered and went down. Given that we have the information that he was watching a group of six people, they probably found out they were being watched and killed the assassin before he could tell anyone else what he found.” Mark starts.

“Luckily for us, the fallen assassin started leaving clues before they got to him. He was found with his assassin badge, which puzzles me. Either the murderer was in a hurry or they weren’t aware he was an assassin.” Rosé picks up. “After going to the murder scene, Mark and I went to Saint-Denis which isn’t far from there and it was from the note you handed us. We didn’t find anything there, except we were attacked by someone in black robes. The other thing on that note you handed us was the name ‘Chaput’ which means hood, wearing something hood like.” 

“It could mean it was a clue about the secret group but if we’re missing something, there might be another meaning. As Rosé said, we came out of searching the place empty handed but the name was important. Saint Denis was a saint, who was executed by beheading. We’re still unaware actually if that’s important.” Mark trails off. “Saint Gervais - Saint Protais, was where we found the bundle of notes and the spider web map. Both saints were also beheaded.” 

They both watch Jinki as he picks up the spiderweb map, studying it before Rosé picks up where they left off in their evidence. 

“The Palace Justice was almost marked on the map we originally found on the body. The slashes and ‘x’s are seemingly lost to us, maybe they were places the assassin wanted to look at more deepingly or found nothing. But with the coat of arms having symbols meaning justice, it has to be another name clue not a location clue. If this is a plan against the assassins as whole, this could be the templars wanting justice. The question remains, hopefully within all of this, what do they exactly plan to do?”

“What about ‘pearl’?” Jinki asks, picking up one of Rosé’s note pages. She had tried finding ways to connect them all, coming up empty handed. “It’s obvious that the templars are going to make a move and pin it on us, but what does pearl mean? Also the red part Rosie, on the crest, should mean sacrifice if my memory on symbolism is correct.” 

“Are they going to sacrifice someone? Just to get back at us? Why?” 

“We’ve been, in a sense, at war with the templars for years, centuries. Even if this is just a small group of them, they must have had enough. We’re in the midst of a revolution where chaos currently reigns, a plot for revenge could be added to the mix quite easily.” Jinki picks the spiderweb map back on. “This is what’s bothering me, what does this possibly go to? You think it's a map.” 

“Yeah,” Mark says, slouching back into his chair. “We thought it was the city, leading us to watch Notre Dame but it doesn’t fit.” 

They sit there watching Jinki look over their clues and the spider web, muttering to himself trying to piece together anything to it. Mark’s certain at this point the spider web isn’t important, about to speak up and suggest it when Lisa comes running into the office, yelling for Jinki.

“JINKI, JINKI.” She stops short, noticing the two in the room with him. “You were right, the son in that family is a templar.” She makes her way into the room, slamming her hand down onto the desk as she catches her breath. “You were actually right.”

“Thank you.” Jinki laughs. “What was it? The final bit that made you find it?”

“The son goes out in the morning to the shop his father owns, some textile shop in the district, then goes out to some house of a noble family in the afternoon and evening and then heads back home. Only he sneaks out, usually a different window each night and makes his way to the catacombs. I could only get so close without being seen but it’s about five or six men and they dress in all black and -”

“All black?!” Mark and Rosé cut her off. They share a look, hoping that Lisa has the missing pieces to their mission. 

“Yeah,” Lisa nods. “There’s some plot, to kill someone, I think someone of the noble class. They kept referring to the person as the pearl. I couldn’t catch all the words because I could tell they figured out someone was listening to them and I had to run. I decided to head back and watch the house, he came home and then once morning rose started his day again. I don’t think his family is aware, they go about their day like their son isn’t currently plotting someone’s murder.” 

“Where does he go? Did you follow him to the house?” Marks asks.

“A pearl, Mark this is our case.” Rosé picks up the notes on the desk, getting up to point them out to Lisa. “God, Lisa, you could have gotten caught and - “ She throws herself at her girlfriend, hugging her tight. 

“But they didn’t. I’m alright.” Lisa hugs her back before reaching into her jacket pocket, pulling out folded up papers. “Here Jinki, this might be more important than since our cases are the same.” 

She hands the pieces of paper to Jinki, who unfolds them and places them onto the desk so they can all get a better look. One contains a letter, written in code, but sitting in the bottom corner is their coat of arms, in color allowing them to connect the drawing from their assassin to them. The other one, Mark brushes aside random sentences written down, he wants to get a better look at the coat of arms when the words ‘pearl’ and ‘spider web’ catch his attention. He grabs the paper, reading over the sentences. 

“And what sits pretty in the middle of the spider web? The pearl.” He reads outloud. His mind races, hoping what he comes up with is correct. “Jinki, do you have a map of the Marais district?” They watch Jinki go up to one of the dressers, pulling out a map from the top drawer. He places it down onto the desk, turning to Mark for more instructions. 

“The pearl is the center of the map, meaning that whatever the pearl is should be there. Lisa, you’ve been watching a family from the Marais district, is the house he goes to also within the district?” He gets a nod. “Do you think you could mark the places on the map, maybe it could line up with our spider web. We can just hope that our drawn spider web matches the one that they seemingly use or planned out.” 

He picks up the spider web map and watches as Lisa uses little magnets found on Jinki’s desk on the map. She places down a few before holding out her hand for the paper. Mark passes it to her, hope growing that they might actually solve this. She looks between the map and the drawing a few times before nodding. 

“It matches.” Lisa points to one of the markers. “This is the starting location, also the house I’ve been watching for the past week.” She moves her hand over, a straight line almost to another marker. “This matches up with the middle of the map, and the other markers, meaning that this is the pearl. This is also the house he visits during the day.” 

Mark leans over to look, moving the pearl marker to see where the middle of the web lies and freezes. The sound of rushing water fills his ears, their voices becoming background noises as his hand begins to shake, failing to move the marker back to its spot. He leans back from the desk, his breathing coming out in short bursts.

“Mark are you okay? You’re white as a sheet, sit down.” Rosé tries to help him sit down, Mark shaking his head frantically, eyes never leaving the map.

“Bambam.” 

“What about Bambam?” Rosé asks, a hand reaching out to settle him. 

“The middle of the web, the marker.” The ring sitting on his chest feels heavier, the pearl ring that Bambam gave him yesterday weighing him down. “The pearl, it’s Bambam. He’s -” 

Mark doesn’t finish the sentence, taking off out of the office, pushing his way through the café, Kibum’s yells lost to the wind as he takes off out the front door. Rosé’s screaming behind him, begging him to wait for her. He’s down the block, jumping to grab hold of a balcony, pulling himself up and using the roofs of Paris to get to Bambam quicker. 

He screams at himself to move faster, jump farther so he has less to run, jumping between roof tops. He mentally kicks himself, screams at himself, for not getting Bambam out of there when he had the option. He should have gotten him out before the engagement, before the revolution took a turn, Bambam would have been safe in his home, with him. He can hear Rosé’s footsteps behind him, yells of his name as she catches up. He jumps over the garden wall, all caution gone and pushes himself to run faster through the garden. 

He has the balcony in his sites, noticing that the window doors are wide and screams are filtering out. He knows the voice, his heart breaking and he screams to let Bambam know he’s there, just to give him hope that he’ll get him out of this. He jumps up, feet barely touching the balcony before he’s through the window taking in the scene.

The bedroom is a mess, blankets, sheet and pillows thrown about and scattered. Ten is tucked into a ball in the corner, bleeding from a cut on his cheek and shaking with fear. Mark moves to ask where he is, where he was taken when a loud scream comes from the hallway outside Bambam’s rooms. He yells, promising Ten that he’ll be back and for him to stay there, chasing after the screams. They’re both down the hallway, footsteps echoing off the walls when they turn a corner, stopping short to find that a standoff has started. 

Mark draws his pistol and saber, pointing his gun at the hooded man and waits to be able to use his sword. Rosé walks up from behind him, a few spaces in front of him and draws duel guns out, cocking them and waits. Mark eyes over Bambam’s figure, still in his nightshirt from this morning, and eyes the red dot of blood forming from where the knife is pressed against his neck. Mark’s hold on his gun tightens, bettering his stance to shoot. He catches movement in his right eye, a man holding up his hands, tears streaming down his face and figures that this is Bambam’s father. 

“Let him go, whatever the templars were planning ends here.” Rosé steps forward slowly, guns still raised, and stops when the knife is pushed harder against Bambam’s throat. A whimper sneaks out causing Mark to see red. “Just let him go.” 

“I don’t think so.” Though muffled by the cloth around the templar’s mouth, Bambam’s eyes grow wide with recognition. He looks at Mark, pleading to get him out of this, tears streaming down his face. 

“Listen, if you want money -” Bambam’s father stutters out. 

“No, we don’t want money. We want them,” The hooded finger points the knife at Mark and Rosé. “extinct. Assassins only bring more and more trouble as the world continues on, keeping us from reaching our goal. It’s just a shame that out of all the spoiled nobility we decided worked perfectly for our plan, is in love with the biggest thorn in our side. Because you are, aren’t you?” He looks at Bambam, the knife being placed back against his throat, a sob coming from Bambam’s lips. “That’s why it wouldn’t have worked out for us.” The templar turns back to Mark. “Who would have thought the assassin who worked so hard to create such a dark reputation for himself, would be in love with this brat?” 

“Don’t you dare call him that. You have ten seconds to remove your hands from him before you lose them,” Mark cocks his gun, hand tightening around his saber. “I would recommend moving quickly, your life will end anyway. I would just rather him not be near you when I kill you.” 

It’s as if everything slows down, not one moment of his training could have prepared him for this moment. The hooded figure removes the knife from Bambam’s neck, throwing it off to the side, out of sight and reach. He flicks his wrist, a hidden blade being triggered out of his arm brace, the blade catching the light of the candles in the hallway. Mark’s eyes grow wide, about to throw himself at them, when the hooded figure stabs Bambam in his side. 

The figure removes the blade, letting go off Bambam watching him stumble for a second before he stabs him again in the back before taking off. Rosé shoots, the shots echoing and takes after him. Mark watches Bambam begin to crumble, scooping him up into his arms, attempting to apply pressure to the wounds, to stop the bleeding, to stop him from dying. He tries to do it without hurting him, whimpers of pain growing louder, tears streaming down his face as he pressed down, too much blood slipping onto Mark’s hands. 

“Baby, listen to me. Hey, hey,” He holds Bambam’s head up, smearing blood on his cheek. “Open your eyes, there we are. There’s my beautiful Bammie.” 

Bambam’s breathing gets faster as he starts to panic, his eyes moving quickly, looking over Mark’s face before he starts coughing. Marks sits him up better, using his leg to prop him up. Bambam tries to grab hold of Mark’s arm, his hands failing to close around it, causing him to panic more, tears spilling faster. 

“I know who that was.” Bambam coughs, eyes drooping, voice coming out weak. “It was Yug-”

He coughs harder, blood spilling out of his lips, Mark wipes it away with his sleeve. Mark has left missions extremely bloody, shirts having to be thrown away with how badly stained they are, but he thinks he has more of Bambam’s blood on him than his entire time as an assassin. He cradles the back of his head, shushing Bambam who continues to babble unforming words. 

“Don’t worry about it baby, Rosie will get him. You’ll be safe, okay, it will be all over. Bam, please keep your eyes open.” Mark’s voice cracks, watching Bambam’s eyes closing. 

“Just a few minutes, tired.” His breathing is becoming so shallow, Mark’s shaking hand tries to find a pulse on his neck. Tears spill down Mark’s cheeks as he finds it, so faint he almost missed it. “Just a few minutes, Mark.” 

“No, we have to stay awake now. No more sleeping, you always yell at me about sleeping when I stop by.” Mark fixes his head, weak eyes staring up at him. “Come on, Bam please. Stay with me, I love you, please.” He begs, his voice cracking again.

Bambam looks at up, eyes unfocused and slow blinking lids. There’s a small smile on his lips, head moving slightly back and forth as if to try and keep Mark in focus. His eyes close, his breathing tampers off and he slumps in Mark’s arms. Mark holds him, tucking him into his embrace and screams. 

It echoes off the empty halls, ugly and brutal, a sound he didn’t know he could even make. He wishes, hopes, that his screams are loud enough to shatter the windows, to get the point across on how broken he feels. He buries his face into Bambam’s hair as he sobs, broken pleases escaping through begging for him to come back. He feels like his world is tilting, the feeling of when his feet fail to find stable landing on rooftops, causing him to slip. He waits for the ground below them to open up and swallow him, to take him away as well.

He’s forgotten about Bambam’s father who’s been standing behind him until he feels a hand stop onto his shoulders, a hand that he knows doesn’t belong to his best friend. He looks up quickly, his grip on Bambam’s body tightening, blinking tears out of his vision. He studies the man in front of him, a man he’s done so well until now to never meet. 

“So it was you.” He says, crying. “You’re the one he loved.” 

Mark doesn’t know how his father knows about them but somehow it causes Mark’s body to shake, a broken loud sob escaping through his lips. He feels himself pulling Bambam closer to him, his head pressed against his chest. 

“I don’t know how you know.” 

“I could always tell there was something he was hiding, something that kept him happy. Now I know, he was in love. It’s a shame that we meet like this now.” Bambam’s father rubs his hand across his shoulder. “Seeing you now, I understand why he had chosen you.” 

Mark nods, dropping his head back so his face can hide in Bambam’s hair and rocks him. He drops kisses into his hair, gripping onto Bambam’s shirt to keep him with him. He only lifts his head again when he hears the footsteps of his best friend. She’s standing above him, papers tuck under her arm and tears streaming down her face. She crouches down next to him, rubbing her hand across his back to sooth him and places a kiss on his temple. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bring up business but I caught him, killed him, made him understand that we don’t allow the ones under our protection to be touched or played with. Got the missing papers that we needed to understand it all, so that’s that for this mission.”

Rosé realizes that she can’t pull Mark away from Bambam, not even now. Taking pity on her best friend, she offers their help with moving the body. Bambam’s father nods, motioning them to follow him. She moves to help Mark stand up, but backs up when she sees him stand up, carrying Bambam’s body bridal style, hugging him close and begins following his father. He stops short, Rosé walking to stand in front of him to figure out what the issue is when Mark looks at her. 

“You need to get Ten, he’s in Bam’s-” His voice cracks. “He’s in the bedroom, make sure he’s okay and tell him. Wait, maybe I should tell him.”

“Go, I’ll tell him and get him. We’ll find you.” 

Rosé watches him go, turning and retracing her steps to the bedroom where they entered. She finds a black haired man, cleaning up the pillows and blankets, whipping around armed with a pair of scissors. She holds up her hands in surrender, the man dropping the scissors back down to his side. 

“You’re Ten right? Mark sent me.” 

“Yes, I am. Where are they? Are they safe?” 

Rosé feels herself getting choked up, turning to the side to calm herself down but ends up giving herself way at the action. She hears Ten let out of a small ‘no’ before his cries are filling up the large room. She’s caught on the vanity mirror, the small dish on rings and how normal it seems even though the owner won’t be returning. 

“I’m sorry. Mark is safe, just extremely torn up. Bambam is gone. Mark wanted me to come get you, check up on you. Are you hurt in any way?” 

“Just a scratch on my cheek, nothing I can’t handle. I tried stopping the attacker, he came through the window …. “ He trails off. “Take me to him please.” 

It takes them a while, trying different rooms until they find them in a back unused bedroom, where Bambam’s body is cleaned up and laid on the bed. Bambam’s father is missing, but Mark is sitting on a chair, his face in his hands, letting out sobs. Ten moves around her, throwing his arms around Mark and joins him. She didn’t realize that outside of the family, and Bambam, Mark might have had another friend, known someone else well enough to allow this. 

Ten looks over, dropping a kiss onto Bambam’s forehead and cries harder. She turns just in time to see Bambam’s father return. They stand there watching both of them, different pains of guilt overcoming them. 

“Mark, we should head back now.” She hates having to say that, she wants to leave him here but it’s dark now, he’s covered in blood and she knows that their family is waiting for them to return safely. 

Mark nods, getting up, dropping a kiss onto Bambam’s forehead before whispering something into his ear. He stops, removing a small knife from his boot and cuts at the sash tied around his waist. It’s a dark rich red, something that symbolizes the family but also himself, and ties it around Bambam’s wrist. He whispers something to Ten, who nods before squeezing his hand and letting him go. He passes by Bambam’s father without a word, Rosé running after him.

/

“I love you. I promised you I would always find you, so wait for me.” 

/

Rosé watches him, always five steps behind, as he staggers in front of her. They’re both dead on their feet, Mark drenched in blood and every time she tries to throw his arm over her shoulder, to bring him home, he pushes it aside. He stops short, Rosé stepping around him to not bump into him, and waits for what he’s about to do. They left the chateau a little over an hour ago and she’s worried he’s going to do stupid - like go after the rest of the templars that caused this by himself. 

He looks at her, eyes dull, and begins muttering something. 

“Mark?” Rosé steps up to him, hand hovering over his arm. “Why don’t we go home?” 

“Why did they take him?” He whispers, looking away from her, throwing his head back and screams. “Why?!” 

“Mark I don’t know, I don’t know how to help you.” Rosé places her hand on his arm, a silent thanks to whoever is watching that Mark doesn’t shrug it off. “Let’s go home.” 

They stumble into the cafe, their family waiting around a table and there are shouts once they see them. Some of the shouts turn into cries of horror, until they realize neither of them are hurt, the blood dried. Kibum and Jinyoung lead Mark upstairs, orders thrown over his shoulder for hot water for both a bath and tea to be brought up straight away. Kibum stops them just half way up the stairs, looking over Rosé and orders her to change, bathe and rest, that the rest of the household will take care of them, bringing a mumbling Mark upstairs and away from eyes. She feels Jisoo and Lisa link their arms through hers, bringing her to Lisa and her room before all she remembers is falling asleep in her bed. 

/

Mark wakes up a few hours later, it’s still dark out and rolls over to try and fall back asleep. He stares into the darkness of his room, finding the ring hanging around his neck and rubs the pad of his thumb over the pearl. A sob bubbles out of his mouth, curling into a ball to cry when the door opens slowly. He sits up, finding someone sneaking into his room and relaxes when he realizes who it is. 

Minji notices that she’s been caught, padding over to the bed and throwing her arms around his neck. 

“I’m sorry.” He hugs her, feeling tears wet his neck. “I’m sorry.” 

He just holds her, cries with her and sends some thanks to whoever is listening that he still has her. He thinks about the day he found her, the flash of light blue in the corner of his eye when he grabbed her, not knowing how important it would be to him. They’re found the next morning, cuddled up together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i promised a happy ending and it's still going to happen. i hope everyone is enjoying the fic! we have one last chapter and then this baby is finished! please let me know what you all think - comments and kudos are always always welcomed!


	9. Chapter 9

A meeting is called around noon the next day, the café closed to allow the house to rest and for the few to mourn. They’re sitting around the table in the basement, all missing usual jackets and gear, waiting for it to begin. The room is silent, eyes scanning each other, making sure that they’re okay, never seeing the table filled with the entire household. Eyes landing on Mark, staying just a bit longer, never seeing him like this. 

Rosé brushes his bangs out his face, stroking his cheek and gets no response. He has his knees pulled up his chest, wooly socks keeping his feet warm from the stone floors, and has his attention on the ring in his hand. She shares a look with Minji before removing her hand and checking over her papers. Jinki motions to her, whenever she’s ready and she stands. Better to get this over with, allow them all to go rest and move on to the next missions. 

“Our mission report,” Rosé clears her throat, Lisa grabbing her hand and squeezing. “Mark and I were tasked with solving a murder of a fallen assassin found in an alleyway in the Court of Miracles. Our assassin was murdered because he came across a plot formed by six templars to allow war to break out between assassin and templars, pining a murder on us, hoping to sway favor for them.” She takes a deep breath. 

“The plot was to kill a member of a nobility family, in the style of an assassnation done by an assassin, an innounce person used to create a war. Unfortunately we were unable to stop that part of the plot,” She voice cracks, seeing the image of Mark looking up at her, cradling Bambam’s body. “But I killed the templar who had committed the act, obtaining the information about the remaining templars in the plot. I’m unable to tell if the target of the plot changed, but the templar who I took down yesterday found himself engaged to the target, giving him an opening to understand the layout of the house. At some point, the templar figured out that Mark knew their target, giving it a layer of payback for all the times Mark stopped their plans.” 

Rose passes the papers to Lisa, the papers moving around the table until they’re handed to Jinki. “Those will tell us, the names are underlined by myself, of who is involved and currently needs to be taken care of. There are points that we do not know, clues left to us by the fallen assassin we will never understand, but he gave us what we needed.”

“Thank you Rosie.” Jinki says, his eyes moving towards Mark who hasn’t made a sound or moved. “Mark, do you want to add anything?” Nothing. “Lisa’s mission, everyone, was also connected to this case, the house she watched was our templar.” 

“I think we can all agree,” Jinki continues. “That Mark is unfit for the rest of this mission, so I would like Jisoo and Jinyoung to join Rosie in taking down the rest of the members of this ring. We will discuss the plans tomorrow. I just want to thank everyone once again for all their hard work, I know this week has been stressful. But you are doing great, please take today to rest and be with each other.” He looks back over to Mark, who is unaware of what is going on around him, lost in grief. 

“Minji, do you mind taking Mark back upstairs? We will send you both some food.” 

She gets up, whispering to Mark and links their arms together moving upstairs. She’s never heard the café be this quiet, even in the dead of night when she returns from patrolling, some voice can be heard, footsteps coming and going. She pushes open his bedroom door, leading him to his bed and tucks him in. She moves the chair back over to the side, sitting down and watching him, his eyes closed. 

“You’ll be okay Mark, it'll be okay again one day.” She leans forward, kissing his forehead before sitting back.

\-------------------------------------------

Mark double checks the map on his phone, just to squash the rising anxiety growing in his chest that he has the right place and that he has more than enough time before the ticket he brought is called. The chateau in front of him is beautiful, white walls, a garden filled with hedges and gladiouses. Mark walks up, snapping a few pictures of the garden and the building and sends a few to his best friend back at home who’s nervous over the fact that Mark travelled across the world to find a building he’s been dreaming about since he was little, before making his way inside. 

The once foyer has been turned into the entrance of a visitor center, a large black wooden desk sits in the middle of the room where a man with black hair and ears full of piercings sits behind. Mark moves around the crowd of families and makes his way to the desk, the anxiety crawling back to life, up his throat to try and make him turn around and run back home to Rosie and her girlfriend Lisa. 

“Hello, are you looking to buy tickets or do you have them booked already?” The man asks, his smile blindly. 

“I have them booked, one for Tuan.” Mark places his phone, camera and id on the counter as he reaches over for a map, flicking through while the worker gets his ticket printed. 

“Okay, so your ticket is for 1 pm. You can line up a half an hour early and we usually let people in at that time if we aren’t too busy. Luck must be on your side because we’re quite slow today. If you can go look at the gift shop now or when you’re done, you’ll end up back here at the end of the tour.” 

“Thank you, you can take pictures inside right?” Mark earns a nod, gathering his stuff up and heading over to the bench near the entrance. He double checks his phone, seeing no new messages and looks over the list of things written down that he hopes to find.

Mark’s been having dreams about, what he thinks, is another life he once lived since he was young. He’s dreamt of running across rooftops, jumping over gaps that are impossible to jump and watching a world fall apart from above. As he got older, the dreams became more vivid, details of rooms, alleyways, glimpses of people in the corner of his eye. The day he dreamt of his adoptive fathers and dreamt of saving his adoptive sister, he knew there was something to them. And then the mysterious figure showed up and has seemingly never left.

The person is always just out of reach, just out of sight, that whenever they show up Mark’s mind takes over, running and reaching out for them until he wakes up screaming, a name unknown just on the tip of his tongue. The name has never come to him, the face is still a mystery. 

He started writing down the dreams, from mini details to larger scenes - he’s currently on his third notebook from rewriting them all again, usually when a new dream comes in. There’s a barely used blue notebook, sitting in his drawer mocking him, waiting for him to fill it up with the mysterious figure. About a year ago, Mark started turning his dreams into a story, loosely based on real events, but continually finds that there are things missing. 

Six months ago, Mark dreamt of a chateau. One with white walls, a garden filled with hedges and gladiouses and a balcony that’s always out of reach. It took him three months of searching and digging to find the one he’s currently sitting in. He knows half of the original building is missing, destroyed in one of the wars and the only part left is the beginning of the middle all the way to the left wings. Along with the gardens that the previous owners had maintained to what would have been there originally. The historical society brought it ten years ago, researching and remodeling into what the house would have originally looked like. 

He’s looking for anything, the balcony he’s dreamt of reaching for is on the left side of the house - thankfully - so if he can just figure out what’s important here and why he keeps dreaming of it, then maybe he can move forward in his book. He gets up, having his ticket scanned and is let in. He’s taken aback by the beauty of this place, snapping pictures of the details in the walls and floors before moving on. He’s ushered up a marble staircase to the second floor, after touring through a sitting room and an office.

He finds himself in a long hallway, filled with large windows looking into the garden and paintings of the French countryside. He makes his way down, looking at the paintings but nothing grabs his attention. He snaps a few pictures of them, just in case, before he moves on. As he gets down the hallway, he feels his anxiety spike again. He stops, just a little bit before the hallway turns, having to steady his breath. He’s hit with an overflowing feeling of brokenness and it makes him want to cry.

He moves on, snapping a picture of the hallway from the bend and moves on. There are information markers along this hallway, open doors dressed up to look like rooms belonged to the nobility, the missing rooms destroyed. He’s disappointed that there is nothing about the family that lived in the house, still as clueless about his dreams as he first arrived. A sign leads him into a large room, and when he walks in he freezes. 

The room is large, windows thrown up to balconies overlooking over the garden, a warm breeze flowing through the room. Majority of the room is white - walls, decorations, furniture - but the details of everything are light blue. Different shades litter the room, Mark doesn’t know where to look and why he feels so overwhelmed. He follows the carperted, roped off walkway for visitors, making his way through the room, snapping pictures. His mind screams, his thoughts going back and forth from knowing the room to being frustrated that he can’t call out the name to the person that once lived there. 

He’s just making his way through the open door when he bumps into someone. He apologizes quickly, reaching out to make sure the person is alright when he realizes his hands are shaking. The man in front of him laughs, shaking his hands out to brush off and that he’s okay, when he makes eye contact with Mark and a soft smile is replaced on his face. 

“I’m okay.” He says softly, before clearing his throat. “Sorry, I should have been watching to see if anyone came into the room. Do you have any questions about the house?” 

Mark is taken aback, his heart pounding away that he doesn’t think he can hear himself think. The man has black hair and is wearing the clothes for the staff, black skinny jeans along with a tucked in red polo. Mark’s eyes wander up from the long legs, to land on pearl earrings, small studs before returning to the worker’s face. 

“Um.” Mark clears his throat, he feels his ears starting to warm up. “Do you know anything about the family that lived here? I’m assuming they were living here during the revolution.” 

The man smiles, nodding. “They did, unfortunately that’s just about all we really know about them, besides the fact that it seems like the heir of the family died suddenly. They might have destroyed their own papers, either because of the revolution or some unknown reasons. The house was passed over to a cousin at some point, abandoned, partly destroyed and left a mess.” 

“We do know, through both documents from the early 1900s and word of mouth from the previous owners before the society brought the place that this wing of the house was locked up. I mentioned before that it seems like the heir died suddenly, the wing being in almost perfect condition proves that, since they more than likely closed down this side of the house. We can’t check the cause of death but grief tells a larger story. The wing of the house we are standing in now, belonged to him, actually where we’re standing now were his.” The man takes a deep breath, Mark following him, feeling himself getting choked up. “The heir’s bedroom, those were his sitting rooms. The bed, the vanity desk and the mirror on top are original, somehow they stood the test of time, revolution and war.” 

The man moves to the side, allowing Mark to walk around and take pictures. His emotions are running in every direction, Mark doesn’t know if he wants to scream, cry or cheer with joy. He notices the balcony, the ones in his dreams, and understands it wanted him to see this. He snaps pictures, after pictures, taking in everything. Mark turns slightly, catching the man in the corner of his eye, casted in the shadow of the doorway leading back to the sitting room. His mind registers something, he feels like he can hear a lock unclick, stepping up towards the worker.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t ask your name. I’m Mark.”

“I’m Bambam, nice to meet you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and that's it! It's tagged a happy ending for a reason :) 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed my story, I really enjoying writing this up. Kudos and comments are more than welcomed! Hope everyone has a good day!

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first time posting for kpop on here and given that i write for an unpopular ship, someone might come across this and be interested. i hope everyone enjoys this fic, it's my baby. 
> 
> please leave kudos and comments, come tell me what you think so far!


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